Finale: Sweeney Todd Style
by Jane Poirot
Summary: AU: Yes, the season five finale was fine and dandy, but this is how Dave's storyline should have been resolved...Sweeney Todd Style.


**Disclaimer: 'Desperate Housewives' is not mine, this idea came out of sheer insanity. I can't explain why, but this was how I pictured the season finale to go all along. Also, a bit more AU-ness: Mike finds the tape a bit later and thus calls later. And Dave does not bring a gun, he brings...well, you'll find out. Also, it is put under 'humour' because I personally find this to be hilarious.**

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After many hours of driving through the country, Dave finally pulled over on the dusty road. He got himself unbuckled and said, "All right, we're here. Ready, Susan?"

"Yeah, just let me get MJ out," said Susan, unbuckling herself.

Dave called out to the back, "Ready, MJ?"

"You bet," said MJ with that dopey grin on his face.

Dave smiled. He was more than ready.

* * *

The walk down to the lake made Susan feel a bit uneasy for some funny reason, but she didn't know why. The trees were lushful and green, the woodchips were rusty brown, and the lake up ahead was bright and blue, with the sun's beams bouncing off of it. There was nothing sinister-looking about it at all.

"There's the boat," announced Dave, pointing to the docks. "Right there waiting for us." He turned to Susan. "Susan, would you care to go back up to the car and get some juice boxes for our big boy here?"

"Wait, how about I bring MJ with me?" suggested Susan. "I brought two different kinds of juice boxes and I'd like to see what he wants."

"Can I go, Dave? Please?" begged MJ, his eyes wide and hopeful.

"Don't you want to go fishing now, sport?" asked Dave, thinking, _It's only a matter of time until they're on to me, so let's get this over with._

"I'm thirsty," said MJ. "Can I get a drink first?"

Dave mentally reminded himself to relax, lest he give the game away, and said, "All right. But hurry back."

Susan held MJ's hand and the two walked back up the path together.

Dave let out a tight smile and dug his hands into his pockets, his thumb very nearly brushing the razor. He knew what he was going to do: He would lure Susan away from the lake, take MJ into the boat, knock him overboard, come back, and slit Susan's throat.

The sheer absurdity of it made him laugh. His wife had a fondness for Stephen Sondheim musicals. Her favourite one, in particular, had been "Sweeney Todd" for that had been the play Dave was in a community production of. He had played the titular character, appropriately enough. The two met when Dave used the actor's exit and she had been waiting for her ride to pick her up. The two struck it off immediately and soon enough, they were married with a daughter.

And then..._she_ came along and changed all that.

Susan Delfino.

"The _bitch,"_ spat Dave.

His head turned at the sound of a twig snapping. Curious, he took a few steps forward and called out, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Out came an ugly-looking beggar woman. She was dressed in rags and wore an ugly, over-sized bonnet that hid her face. She looked like one of those Victorian beggars actually.

"Who are you?" asked Dave. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't trust her, sir," said the beggar woman warningly. "She's evil, is what she is. Pure _evil._ She's the devil's wife! Beware of her, sir. She has no pity in her heart." Her eyes lit up and for a moment, looked somewhat familiar. "Hey, don't I know you, mister?" she asked.

"Maybe, maybe not," said Dave anxiously. "Look, I'm _really_ busy right now, m'am, so could you please just _go?"_

"Go where?" asked the woman. "This forest is my home. I've lived here for the past three years, I have. All alone. With no one to care for me but myself. You know, I've lived off raccoons and squirrels I have, and I'll tell you this much: Do not eat raccoon liver. It tastes like squirrel shit."

"Really?" said Dave, pretending to take interest. "You don't say."

* * *

"Okay, MJ, you wait out here," said Susan, handing him her cell phone. "If someone you don't know calls, tell me, okay?"

MJ nodded. Not long after Susan had ducked inside the car, the phone rang. MJ had been taught to identify his father's cell phone number on Caller ID. He opened up the cell phone and cheerfully said, "Hi, dad!"

"MJ, are you there?" said his dad's voice.

"Yeah," said MJ, frowning. His dad's voice sounded a bit panicked. "Why?"

"Listen, _don't_ _react,"_ said his dad's voice warningly. "I have something to tell you: You are in great danger. It's a very complicated, grown-up matter, but _hide._ Just _hide._ Can I talk to your—"

There was a lot of static and then silence. MJ shrugged and put the cell phone into his pocket. "Hey, mom," he said. "I don't feel well. Can I stay in the car?"

"Don't you want to go fishing?" asked Susan, who had by now come out with two different juice boxes.

MJ shook his head. "Later," he said. "I want to go into the backseat and rest."

"Do you want me to stay with you?" asked Susan.

MJ shook his head, unaware that he had just sealed his poor mother's fate.

"Okay," said Susan, lifting MJ up and putting him in the back seat. "Now, keep the door locked and don't open it for _anybody_ except me or Dave, okay?"

"Okay," said MJ in a small voice.

Susan smiled and kissed MJ on the head. She closed the doors and locked them before leaving.

MJ waited for a few minutes until his mother was gone. Then he began to look for a way out. Something was telling him he had better follow his mother.

* * *

"...and another thing," the beggar woman went on, Dave looking down at his watch, "pinecones are not as awful-tasting as you would think. They're especially yummy in the spring."

"Uh-huh," said Dave nonchalantly.

"Dave!"

Dave's head jerked. He couldn't _see_ Susan, but he could _hear_ her.

"Hey, I think I _do_ know you, mister!" said the beggar woman cheerfully.

"I don't have _time!"_ cried Dave, grabbing the beggar woman by the front of her dress and slitting her throat with his straight razor. He tossed the body into the bushes and turned around to see Susan running down the path.

"Dave, what happened?" she asked.

"Oh, some crazy robber was trying to steal my money," said Dave with a wave of his hand. "But we're safe now. How's MJ?"

"He's not feeling well, but he'll be down soon," said Susan.

_Blast! _thought Dave. _Looks like I'll have to get this plan in motion a bit faster than I planned._

"I'd just like to thank you," said Susan, turning to Dave. "It's not often you meet a neighbour with fellow tastes in hobbies."

"And victims," added Dave, his eyes becoming blank.

Susan frowned. "What?" she asked.

"The years no doubt have changed me," said Dave, leaning in a bit closer. "Then again, I suppose the face of a widowed man having lost his wife and daughter in anguish is not particularly memorable, hmm?"

The psychotic smirk on his face, coupled with the slowly rising razor in his other hand, made Susan think only one thing: _Oh crap._

"David Dash," she whispered.

Trembling with hurt and rage, Dave cried, "DAVID DASH!" And with that, he brought the razor down on Susan's neck, cutting open the flesh, spewing fresh blood everywhere. Angrily, he stabbed her neck again and again, to symbolize the blood she had spilt: That of his wife, and that of his daughter.

Susan fell to the ground. She opened her eyes, which met Dave's dark, angry ones. He finished the job by slashing her throat, splashing blood all over his face.

Satisfied, Dave slowly stood up...and saw a horrified Mike Delfino standing there.

"Hello, Mike," said Dave, smiling. "Nice day for fishing, isn't it?"

Mike kept opening and closing his mouth. He blurted out, "How could you?!?"

"How could I not?" asked Dave, taking the pace all villains take when gloating. "She killed my wife and daughter. And _you,"_ he pointed a blood-stained finger at Mike, "helped. You were her _accomplice."_

"Dave, I think you need to calm down," said Mike calmly. "Just count to ten, or—or go sit in a corner or—_something. _Just please, don't take this out on us."

"I already _tried_ counting to ten," sneered Dave. "Didn't work! And sitting in a corner—buddy, I can give you a _lecture_ on sitting in a corner. But let's not resolve this with razors."

He tossed his razor off to the side and said, "No. Let's settle this...like men!"

But just as he was about to leap onto Mike, he tripped over his feet and landed backwards on top of the body of the beggar woman. He grunted and pushed himself off of her...and that was when he saw it.

"Lila," he whispered, pulling the bonnet off her sweet face. "Don't I know you—she said."

"Susan and I—we _thought_ it was Lila, too," said Mike, stepping forward. "But then we found out Lila had to stop to pick up some groceries along the way and her sister took over. And that was..."

Dave looked up, a dangerous look in his eyes. "You knew she lived."

"Look, you never would've believed me if I told you," said Mike self-defensively.

"They lied to me," said Dave, standing up.

"No, not lied at all," said Mike quickly. "No, they never lied. They said _someone _was killed, but they never said _whom._ Everyone thought it was Lila, but I never said anything."

"Lila," whispered Dave. "Oh my God, Lila, what have I done?" He spun around to face Mike. "Mike," he said, "you're a bloody wonder, you know that? But you know what?" He held out his hands. "Let's dance."

"Dance?" asked Mike, raising his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Oh, as a friendly gesture," said Dave sweetly. "See? I have nothing in my hands. Come here, come here! What's dead is dead!"

Awkwardly, the two men found themselves in the right position for dancing.

"Now this is my favourite dance," said Dave cheerfully. "The waltz."

The two men danced around the woods, dangerously close to the docks.

"So let's keep living it," sang Dave. "Just keep living it! Really living it!"

He swung Mike off of the docks and into the lake, remembering that there was a reported undertow for today. Keeping in mind that Mike was a pretty strong guy, he whipped out a canoe paddle and bashed Mike over the head with it every time he came back to the surface until finally, only blood surfaced.

Panting, the paddle fell from Dave's hands. Shaking, he slowly turned to the dry ground. He walked towards it and bent down to his wife's body. It was all in vain—all of it. He had thrown away his life seeking revenge on someone for _nothing._ She had been alive all this time. If only he had bothered to look in the w_oods_—if _only!_

He cradled the body of his wife and kissed it. He gently rocked it and sang her favourite song from "Sweeney Todd": _"There was a barber and his wife. And she was beautiful."_

Unaware of the trembling, angry MJ slowly standing up from behind a nearby log, he sobbed out, _"A foolish barber and his wife. She was his reason and his life. And she was beautiful."_

As MJ slowly crept up behind him, picking up the razor as he went, Dave sang, _"And she was virtuous. And he was..."_

Dave looked up. He noticed MJ standing above him, razor in hand. Accepting that he deserved it, Dave raised his neck, waiting for it to be slit.

To avenge his mother and his father, MJ slit the throat of David Dash. He walked on solemnly, razor in hand, as the tragic couple lay there, Dave's blood pouring onto Lila's face, their blood combining together to pour onto the grass, becoming an entity.

_End_

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**A/N: And there you go—the stupidest oneshot I have ever written, lol!**


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